Pam Halpert
by coffee89
Summary: Pam starts to think about what it would be like to be Pam Halpert. PB&J.
1. Chapter 1

"Dunder-Mifflin this is Pam."

He was leaning over her desk, elbows resting on the countertop and jaw chewing the last of her jellybeans while she twisted the phone cord around one of her fingers. His lips upturned gently as he watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and switch the phone effortlessly from her left hand to her right.

"Just a moment, I'll transfer you."

She mouthed 'Jan' at the man whose elbows were resting on the countertop of her desk and made a not-so-ladylike gagging gesture. The man smiled. She held her hand over the receiver, a grin working its way onto her lips.

"I'll put her on speaker," she promised before she lifted her fingers off of the phone, "Michael? I'm putting Jan through."

She waited a beat for his answer.

"Jan, the man. Or woman, but that doesn't rhyme... What up?"

"Still me," Pam interjected, throwing a toothy smile over her desk in Jim's direction, "Jan? Here he is."

"Hey, Jan."

"Always better the second time," he mouthed, nodding his head in appreciation and reaching for a nearby pen to twirl between his fingers. She smiled back.

"Michael, this is embarrassing."

"Did you forget to put on your bra? Because that's not embarrassing that's-"

"Michael! I wanted to ask you….well… do you think it's possible for you to come up this weekend?"

Jim let his jaw drop open in surprise, multi-colored jelly beans still visible in the corners of his mouth. Pam brought a disbelieving hand up to cover her mouth.

"Is it going to be like last weekend? Last weekend was painful. I'm still sore."

The laughter was threatening to escape, and before they could think of the possible ramifications, they both were struggling for breath with flushed faces, letting out peals of laughter into the receiver.

"You put me on_ speaker_, Michael?"

There was a terrifying breath of silence before a comically stern voice cut in.

"Pam?"

"Oops," she mumbled, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle, "I am _so_ sorry, Michael, I was trying to-"

"I'll want to see you in my office after work. Bring Jim."

They both rolled their eyes at each other before Jim gave a mock salute, sauntering back to his desk and draping his jacket over his chair. Her eyes flicked between the computer screen and Jim's desk, as they usually did, and she fought hard to keep the laughter under control. Michael was still on the phone with Jan an hour later, when the clock read five-ten, but he seemed to be wrapping it up. Jim pushed back his chair and stretched, fighting back a yawn. Pam shut down her computer and replaced her scissors in a drawer to the left of the keyboard before following Jim to the doorway of Michael's office.

"How do I use that exactly?" the figures at the door both winced, "got it. You'll talk me through it though, right? Okay. See you this weekend, bye."

He set down the phone, staring at it for a second before Jim coughed. Michael looked up, his brow knit in confusion, as if he was just realizing that they were there.

"Oh, good, you're here," he greeted after his confusion had bled into understanding, "So what did you think about the whole…_thing- _with Jan?"

They exchanged another stupefied look, "What do you mean, Michael?"

"The phone call, just now," he clarified, as if it were obvious, "Do you think Jan's getting bored?"

"Wait a minute, you're not-"

Jim shushed her, a finger on her lips that left a strange tingling feeling that she couldn't quite place. Jim didn't seem to notice the change.

"You could never bore anyone, Michael," he gushed, and Pam, the realization of his angle becoming obvious, began to nod emphatically.

"Never," she echoed, still nodding. Michael let out a breath of relief.

"Thank God. See I was a little worried about the way she asked me."

"Why? She sounded like she was ready to-"

"Jim!" Pam exclaimed, half because they were at work and half because she'd never really seen him as the one-track- mind guy until now.

"What?"

"Nothing," she mumbled, shrinking back into her shell, as usual. Jim was looking down at her with an unreadable expression while their boss went on to explain the inner complications of his relationship 

with Jan, some of which was bordering between mildly inappropriate and a reason for them to report him to corporate.

"So then we-"

"Michael, I have to go…I carpooled-"

Jim's unreadable expression turned dark at her excuse and Pam almost laughed at his obvious disapproval; Roy was at his parents' for the weekend and wouldn't be back until late Sunday night.

Michael nodded understandingly, biting his lip while he shut down his computer and pushed back is envied leather-clad office chair.

"Do you think you could drop me off, too? Jan accidentally took my car to New York and I had to take the bus here…"

Pam frowned and tried to look as torturously torn as she could, "Sorry, Michael, I'm actually meeting someone for drinks on the other side of town…" she glanced up at Jim, who was staring at the floor, seemingly unaware of the hair falling in front of his lowered eyes, "do you want me to call you a cab?"

Michael shook his head, "Nah, I'll just hitchhike or something. Or," he looked to Jim, "maybe I could catch a ride with..."

"I'm meeting someone too, actually, sorry Michael."

She knew he was lying.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I guess I'll see you two Monday, then-"

"Great. We'll see you then," Pam interjected while she simultaneously tugged on Jim's shirt to prod him out of his jealously-induced stupor, "Jim? Let's go."

He shrugged off her hand once the door had clicked shut behind them and made his way over to his own desk. Smiling reassuringly in her direction, he slung his bag over a shoulder and held up one hand in a chaste goodbye.

"Can I have a ride?" She called to his retreating back, not bothering to hurry; she knew her words would stop him. True to her prediction, Jim's steady footsteps halted inches from the elevator.

"What about your carpool?"

"In Indiana with his parents until Sunday," she said, "With my car."

He grinned, a real one this time, unlike his earlier gesture of understanding, his eyes sparkling, "Tricky, Beesly."

She shrugged, a smile of her own creeping onto her placidly guilty face. She flicked the light on her desk and made her way to him, thinking for a second that this is what her life could be like, meeting him after 

a day at work, possibly getting drinks at the bar a couple of blocks away, maybe revisiting the coffee shop they'd tried the day she started working at Dunder-Mifflin.

Pam Halpert. Mhmm.

Roy couldn't have been farther from her mind.

**AN: This is my first office fic so be kind! I love the office and I feel like I'm not doing it justice but oh well. Let me know!! Review.**


	2. Chapter 2

Pam had been acting weird around him lately. Not things noticeable to an eye untrained in Pam-watching, but he began to get the feeling every once and a while that she was picturing him naked. It wasn't like he _minded_ or anything, hell, he'd been waiting for her to picture him naked for years. It was that he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't just imagining it because he'd been hoping for it for so long. Also, there was the added reality that she was still, as far as he knew, with Roy.

Fist to his chin, he stared unblinkingly at the computer screen in front of him, wondering if she really might possibly be interested in him, Jim Halpert, a slack-off salesman at a midsize paper company. It would be fitting, he supposed, for her to remain engaged to the midsize paper company warehouse worker instead, leaving him wishing and hoping that she would change her mind before she got married sometime in the indeterminable future.

A paperclip landed inches from his keyboard, effectively shifting his attention from dream-Pam to engaged-Pam, snapping for his attention from behind her desk.

"Jim! _Jim_!" she was calling, as he steadily emerged from his technology- and- fantasy induced stupor, "Where were you just now? Dwight just asked me what I was doing for lunch and then took off for the bathroom!"

His mouth formed into a disbelieving 'oh' before morphing into a grin as he began to fully appreciate the possibilities, "Beesly, you have to go!"

She was mock-torn, "But Jim, I'm not open for dating right now. I'm engaged."

That word again.

She realized her slip as soon as she said it. Not that it was a complete lie, she really was engaged, and she really wasn't open for dating. It was just that she had started to avoid mentioning those two details in front of Jim because, well, sometimes she wished they weren't true in front of Jim.

"Right," he said, and Pam winced at his tone.

"I need your help," she continued, knowing that the best way to move past her slip was to suggest a prank, "I need advice, surveillance, the works. This is a major operation, Halpert-you up to the challenge?"

"No faith, Beesly, no faith," he protested, crossing the few feet from his desk to hers with a pad of paper in one hand and a pen in the other, "okay, so here's what we do."

He leaned over the counter next to her container of newly-replenished jelly beans and seemed genuinely oblivious to their closeness. Inches from her face, he laid the groundwork for their plan, listening attentively while she made minor contributions and tried desperately to appear non-fazed. Gulping back feelings that she couldn't begin to explain, covertly wiping her sweaty hands on her skirt, she clung to his every word.

"Number one- say 'absolutely I do' to everything he asks of you. _Everything_, Pam. Say no to _nothing_. This is very important."

"Understood," she responded dutifully.

"Number two-bring your umbrella. It prepares you for rain while providing you with a makeshift weapon in case he gets frisky."

"Did you just say _frisky_ in reference to Dwight?"

He fixed her with a mock-glare.

"Okay, okay, _understood_," she said.

"Number three," he was scribbling furiously on his pad of paper, "Disclose every aspect of your lunch date with Dwight to Jim Halpert immediately after returning."

"Understood."

"Good. Beesly, God, you have no idea how happy Dwight asking you to lunch makes me. My life is totally complete now-you realize that, right?"

She laughed and his stomach flip-flopped, "Does that mean I should make this a daily occurrence? Get a little afternoon delight from Schrute on my lunch breaks?"

He pretended to think about it, smiling.

"Definitely."

She shivered with disgust and laughed, standing to grab her coat. Dwight had returned from the bathroom and was covertly trying to signal her from behind Jim's back. She shared a small, secret smile with her best friend before following their coworker out the door. Jim watched her go, eyebrows knit together as Dwight pulled out his keys, revealing a small bottle of mace attached to his Battlestar Galactica keychain.

Maybe letting Pam go with Dwight wasn't such a good idea after all.

--

Sometimes she wondered why she let Jim talk her into things.

Lunch with Dwight was one of those things.

"Pam, I have a proposition for you," he began as they slid into chairs at the coffee shop where she and Jim had had coffee her first day at Dunder Mifflin.

"What kind of proposition, Dwight?"

"A good one," he promised, looking uncharacteristically earnest as he leaned in and propped his elbows on the table.

She fought the urge to laugh and nodded instead.

"I find you…attractive, Pam."

Oh, God. He really was going to try and seduce her.

"Um…."

"I think that we should think about taking things a step forward," he said, coughing discretely into his elbow, "I want you to be my back-up girlfriend. Do you accept?"

She gulped, remembering Jim's words, dictating them back to Dwight with the same level of complete sincerity that he had adopted for this conversation, "Absolutely I do."

"Excellent. I have some guidelines, which we can go over now if you want…"

She winced inwardly, "Absolutely we should."

"I already have a girlfriend, so you probably won't be needed unless we break up."

"Probably?"

"Well, there are fights, Pam."

She really, really, didn't want to be here, with Dwight, in this coffee shop, listening to him lay out the details of their hypothetical affair behind Angela's back.

"Right."

"I know you're with Roy," Dwight went on, " and he cannot know about this arrangement. If he does find out, then you will have to abandon your position. Is that clear?"

She felt a smile threatening to crack her stony, solemn exterior.

"But Dwight, I wouldn't want to abandon my position for _anything_."

"I don't make the rules, Pam."

"You don't?"

She was genuinely surprised.

"No. My great-great-grandfather started the tradition. Back-up's have been a longstanding Schrute tradition. With luck, you might even be able to graduate to a back-up wife."

"I can only dream. Listen, Dwight, question. Part of the reason I respect you _so much_ is because of your loyalty. How does having a back-up girlfriend-"

He held up his right palm to interrupt her, "This is not a question of loyalty, Pam. I believe that I actually have too much loyalty, and have to distribute it between two separate recipients in order to fully arise at my potential."

She turned to look at the cameramen in the corner of the cafe, tilting her head and squinting in disbelief at the invisible audience.

--

"Jim, you will not believe what just happened to me," Pam gushed after she had breezed through the door and fallen behind a triumphant Dwight. She spoke in a hurried whisper with her eyes darting around the office in search of potential eavesdroppers.

"Let me guess," Jim said, tapping his pen against his chin, "Dwight Schrute asked you to become his….girlfriend."

"_Back-up _girlfriend, Jim, _back-up _girlfriend."

"No way."

"Way. And he told me that it's been a tradition for a long line of Schrute's and to be open whenever he and his current girlfriend have a fight. Oh, and Dwight actually told me I was attractive! How funny is that?"

"You are attractive, Pam," Jim affirmed, much too seriously. He groaned inwardly as an awkward silence enveloped them, and backpedaled desperately as she frowned, "I mean, in the friendly, coworker, receptionist kind of way. Not the other…way….I'm not doing so well, am I?"

She giggled, "Nope. Not so smooth right now, Halpert. I'd have to give the suave award to Dwight."

They both let out a discreet sigh of relief, reveling in the safety and comfort that accompanied familiar ground.

"Again?"

"Again."

**AN: Yay, second chapter! This is surprisingly easy to write. Let me know if it's easy to read. Review!!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Dwight Schrute speaking."

"Hey, Dwight. Just wanted to check in and have a little heart to heart. How's your love life goin'?"

"What do you want, Jim," Dwight monotoned from a desk away, not bothering to put down the phone, "I don't have time for this."

"Question; who is hotter, Angela or Pam?"

"I do not have time for this, Jim!"

Jim leaned in, resting his elbows on the desk as he stared at his neighbor over pencil sharpeners and paperclips, "But, Dwight, I really wanna know. See, I'm planning on asking one of them to be my back-up-"

"Do not say girlfriend, Jim. Do not say girlfriend, or I will fire you."

"You can't fire me."

"Yes, I can. I will tell Michael, and he will-"

"Girlfriend. I was going to ask one of them-"

The phone went dead, and Dwight pushed his chair back roughly and took off for Michael's office. Jim was grinning as he returned the phone to it's cradle and gloated at the receptionist.

"And _that_ is how it's done, Beesly."

She rolled her eyes, not even bothering to turn away from her computer, "You couldn't even get him to say which one of us is hotter, which was our bet."

Jim lifted one side of his lips and tsked, "But by listening to the tone of his voice, I'd say I won."

"So if I understand you correctly, you could tell _by the tone of his voice_ that he thinks Angela is more attractive."

"Well, he _is_ dating her."

"But he asked me to be his-"

"Back-up, Pam, back-up."

She pouted, "Now that's just mean."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Now can I get back to tormenting Dwight?"

Pam gestured towards Michael's office, "By all means."

Jim nodded seriously and followed Dwight's path to their unconventional boss's office. Michael was sitting at his desk with his fingers to the bridge of his nose, groaning, when Jim walked in. Dwight was off to the left, trying to convince Michael that he should be in control of Jim's job.

"I don't have time to deal with this right now, Dwight. Jan is being…Jan, and I just can't be bothered with office politics right now."

"So I have permission to fire Jim?"

"No, you don't Dwight," Jim answered, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest.

"You don't have the authority to say that. Michael?"

Michael sucked in his lower lip, "No, you don't."

"Was that a no to Jim or a no to-"

"_Shut it_, Dwight."

Dwight shrunk back like he'd been slapped and glared at Jim as if it was Jim who was orchestrating Michael's answers. Like a hurt puppy, he backed out of Michael's office, leaving Jim alone with Michael.

"Since I'm here…" Jim began, "who do you think is hotter; Angela or Pam?"

--

It was getting harder and harder to go home with Roy at the end of each work day. That should have been a big clue, the fact that she'd rather go home with her best friend then her fiancé-not to mention the fact that her fiancé wasn't her best friend anymore…

Dropping her purse on the coffee table, she simultaneously stretched and yawned. Her tired mind was making her dizzy, swinging from thought to thought as Roy wrapped his arms around her from behind, placing a chaste kiss on her neck.

"What's for dinner, hon?" he asked, his words muffled from her skin.

_Dinner. Food. Mixed berry yogurt was food. Mixed berry yogurt in the break room. In the break room with Ji__m. Pam Beesly and Jim. PB and J. Food. Dinner. _

"Peanut butter and Jelly," she muttered quietly, barely audible. Roy ignored her mumbled statement and made his way into the kitchen.

"How about steak?" he suggested, extracting a beer from the fridge and popping the tab, "the Lakers game is tonight and I invited some of the warehouse guys to watch it. That ok with you?"

"Would you care if I said no?" she asked, dripping with sarcasm.

"Well yeah, Pammy, I guess I could call them all-"

"You know what, Roy, I'm just going to go to bed. Have your friends over, but make your own damn steak."

She stalked up their carpeted stairs, half-irritated that she couldn't stomp up like a hormonal teenager.

"Pammy, is something wrong?"

"Don't call me Pammy!" she shouted from the bedroom, pulling out her earrings roughly and digging through her drawers for her comfort pajamas. _PJ's. Pam and Jim's. _

Lord, she needed to stop thinking. Period. Scrunching her eyes shut, she willed all thoughts of Jim to go away. But, of course, they refused to go, instead becoming more and more insistent. So insistent, that she wanted to scream, cry, and throw something all at the same time.

A large figure appeared at the door, looking uncharacteristically concerned.

"I'm fine," she assured, softly, "just tired."

"Ok," he said, "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"Ok," she echoed as he gently clicked the door shut behind him. As soon as he was gone, her fingers itched to flip open her phone and dial a particular number. She wanted to hear his voice, just for a second, just saying 'hey' in that special way that she thought he might possibly reserve for her. She wanted him to say he liked her, that he wanted to take her on a real date that wasn't just on the office roof or pulling a particularly complicated prank on Dwight. It was then, huddled over her phone, about to dial his number, that she fully realized how much she did not want to marry Roy. It was insane, really, how long it had taken her to come to this conclusion. All those times he had forgotten her, pushed aside her drawings, relied on her without giving anything in return…all those little things she had put up with because she thought she really wanted this; the white dress, the cake, the husband to come home to.

It was like she was waking up after a long sleep; groggy, but feeling so much more refreshed then when she had first slipped into unconsciousness.

Tomorrow, she decided, crawling underneath the covers. Tomorrow she would start a new life without Roy.

**AN: Like? Not like? Let me know. **

**Review. **


	4. Chapter 4

The bed shifted as another body rolled in beside her still wide-awake form.

_This could be the last time I'll be sleeping next to Roy_, she thought, and it made her sad and hopeful at the same time. She wondered how she was ever going to get used to sleeping alone; strong arms enveloped her, and she felt like crying. Part of her was worried about how this would affect Roy, and the other part of her was worried about her own state of mind. She'd been with Roy since high school. He'd been her first everything, and now she wanted to give all that up-and for what? Her pride? Her hypothetical career as a children's illustrator? Her equally hypothetical relationship with Jim?

Her mind churned, and she pressed closer to Roy for comfort. She had made this decision in the course of a few bold hours. She wondered if she had really thought this through, if this was really the right choice. She'd known Jim for years. He was her confidant, her partner in crime, and her best friend. Giving Roy up would mean jeopardizing her relationship with Jim as well, because who knew what he'd say if she poured her heart out to him. This was fork in her the road, and she'd always preferred spoons-they were round and didn't allow for things to escape through the cracks.

Roy or Jim. Red-blooded, steak-demanding, high-school sweetheart Roy or adorable, comfortable, peanut-butter-and-jelly Jim.

The answer came immediately and unexpectedly. The house phone rang, signaling the way the pendulum was _supposed _to sway. She heard Roy's voice, first layered with sleep, but slowly growing more and more alert as the call continued. It was short, to the point. When he set the phone down, she turned to look at him and was surprised to see tears pricking his eyes.

"Pam, my dad…he-he's dead," he mumbled, pulling her close as his face contorted painfully. Her breath hitched, and her heart started to pound.

"What?"

Maybe she hadn't heard him right. Maybe this was a dream, and she'd wake up and still break it off her engagement.

"There was a car accident-he was running to the store earlier today and…"

"What?"

Memories sprinted lightning-fast through her brain, memories of Christmas' and Thanksgivings and Fourth of Julys up at the lake. To her horror, Roy started to actually cry-big, heaving sobs as he collapsed into her waiting arms.

"Oh, honey," she breathed, letting out a slow exhale of air and feeling one too many emotions at once. Relief, disappointment, sadness (she'd loved Roy's dad), pity, compassion, fear.

The choice had been made for her. She couldn't leave Roy like this, right after his dad died and while he was sad and broken. He was crying on her shoulder, for God's sakes. She murmured assurances into his ear, gently lifting him up to make her way to their dresser, where she started to pull out clothes for both of them. Slowly, carefully, she dressed him, pulling a t-shirt over his head and tugging his legs into a pair of sweats.

They left a couple of minutes later, car keys tucked securely in Pam's hand. She locked the door behind them both, tears silently crawling down her face because of the curve ball the universe had decided to throw at her.

--

It was a normal morning. He'd gotten to work early, hung his coat up near Reception, stolen all of Dwight's secret weapons that he kept in his desk, hidden them in the warehouse, constructed a treasure map made out of paperclips and completely misleading clues for Dwight to follow in order to find his stuff, and closed a couple of sales to make it seem like he was actually being productive.

The only difference, the thing that made his whole morning seem dull and unbearable, was that his best friend was missing. She left behind a void, a small space in the office that begged to be filled by anyone, anything, that could capture Jim's attention for more than five minutes.

The possibilities were endless, really, it could be something stupid; like she'd slept through her alarm, or something serious; like she'd been kidnapped in the parking lot last night after everyone had gone home. The only thing he could really do was sit, wait, and torture Dwight. But the treasure map seemed childish without her there to laugh with him, and Jim Halpert was never one for sitting and waiting. He shifted in his chair, unable to find a comfortable position, and opened an online game of Sudoku, which coincidentally reminded him of her.

Itching to pick up the phone and dial but knowing that she'd call if it was something bad, he watched the minutes tick by and grew more and more anxious. Then, at nine thirty-five, his phone rang. He answered in her usual greeting, sounding awkward with his name substituted for hers.

"Dunder-Mifflin, this is Jim."

"Hey," she said, sniffling, "it's Pam."

"Hey, what's wrong? It's like nine-thirty."

Not that he was completely aware of the time or anything.

"Roy's dad got into an accident."

"God, Pam, I'm so sorry. Is he okay?"

She shook her head, forgetting that she wasn't talking to him in person. The conversation crawled to a complete stop before she finally let out a soft whisper of an explanation, "He's dead, Jim."

She strained her ears for an answer, but the line failed to yield any decibels. Then, quietly, Jim repeated his condolence, "I'm so sorry, Pam."

It was amazing to her that he could be so genuinely concerned when she knew for a fact that he didn't like Roy and had certainly never met his dad.

"And there's something else," she forced out, willing herself to simultaneously stop and continue, "I-I wanted you to know something."

She sounded small and vulnerable on the phone-something he'd rarely heard coming from her. He held his breath in anticipation, hoping, against everything he knew, that she would say what he wanted to hear.

"I'm at the hospital right now-can I meet you for lunch? At that café down the street?"

Her voice trembled, and he could tell that she was barely, _barely_ holding herself together.

"Of course. Is twelve-thirty good for you?"

"Yeah. I gotta go…can you let Michael know I won't be in today?"

"He won't be happy. The first hour or so he was going around the office looking under tables and stuff trying to find you. Then he started sulking in the bathroom…I think he thinks he lost at hide-and-seek."

She let out a half-hearted but genuine laugh, said a hurried goodbye, and hung up. Clicking out of his Sudoku, he turned back to Dwight. He'd have to pass the time somehow, and now that he'd regained a little of his motivation, he was up for finishing at least one prank before lunch.

Minutes later, he was placing a cardboard sign around his neck that said 'WILL FIGHT FOR FOOD' and waiting patiently for his target to notice.

"That's completely unnecessary, Jim," an exasperated Dwight said, "you have a job, you don't need to act homeless."

"What if I just want to fight you?"

"That would be stupid. I, as you know, am trained in the martial arts and know of ways that I can defend myself."

"You mean the stash of weapons you keep hidden at your desk?" Jim asked, pulling out his desk drawer and pretending to look for something. Then, with a small smile of triumph, holding up a silver, pointed star, "here it is. I thought I'd lost my throwing star."

Dwight turned red, opening his drawers desperately in search of his missing things, "No, Jim. That's mine-"

"Are you openly admitting that you keep illegal weapons hidden in an office environment?"

"Jim, give them to me."

"But I'm concerned for my safety. See I could faint, trip over your desk, fall into your open drawer, and cut open my neck on your throwing star."

"Impossible."

"I think the word you're looking for is _improbable._"

"Jim!"

Jim sighed, relenting, "Okay, okay. Follow these instructions," he passed over the treasure map that he had created earlier that morning, "and keep them safe. _Do not show anyone_. They are top secret. If you complete all of the missions outlined on the back correctly then you'll have your weapons by the end of the day."

Dwight grunted in understanding, and morphed almost instantly from an annoyed coworker into a dutiful secret agent.

Jim smiled confidently into the cameras, cocking his head to the side as Dwight set off in the general direction of the warehouse in search of adventure and his stolen things.

Now, Halpert could focus, uninterrupted, on fully appreciating his upcoming lunch with Pam, regardless of the circumstances.

**AN: so this is turning WAY more depressing then I originally intended. Sorry for the sad-happy see/saw thing going on in this chapter, but I can't stop writing in the pranks on Dwight-what can I say? Drama, drama, drama. **

**Keep readin' and reviewin'. **


	5. Chapter 5

Her fingers rapped on the table, taunting him.

Head bent, eyes fixed on a point indiscernible to him, she hadn't said a word for ten minutes. He was beginning to worry in her silence, and the hope that had unwillingly leapt into his throat at her invitation was slowly starting to dissipate into a pool of familiar disappointment and longing.

"You're scaring me Beesly," he said softly, desperate to end the excruciating quiet, "What did you want to talk about?"

If possible, her face became even more heartbreakingly miserable and he found himself wishing he could take it all away, and coax out the smile he knew was hiding behind her frozen features. He knew now was neither the time nor the place, however.

"I've wanted to tell you for awhile," she finally spoke, fiddling with her napkin, "well, no, that's not exactly true- I haven't known for awhile. But I just started to think about it as a possibility, you know, like a pipe dream that I could think about but never really have."

The hope rose up again, like the steady rise of a rollercoaster before the inevitable fall.

"Pam-"

"Let me finish," she ordered firmly, then, gentler, "I just have to get this out before I lose my nerve."

She let out a breath, smoothed her rumpled napkin, and went on, "Like I said, I've been thinking about this for the past couple of weeks, months…I don't know how long. If you haven't noticed, things have been a little awkward at work, and that's my fault. Completely, utterly, totally my fault. I let things get weird because of the way I started to see you, and that was unfair. See, Jim, I started to imagine us-together. Don't say anything," she begged desperately, glancing at his half-open mouth for a second before returning her gaze down to the table, "I think I started to fall in love with you for a little bit. But just a little! Seriously, it's no big deal, I just wanted you to know because I know that we tell each other everything and I didn't want this to get in the way of our friendship. Especially now, with Roy's dad-even if you _were_ interested, I couldn't leave him now…"

It was his turn to be speechless.

The first thing he felt was intense, almost feverish excitement. Pam had feelings for him? _His_ Pam? His mind flashed across scenarios of them together with the white picket fence and the dog and the kids.

Then, as the words began to sink in, he started to get angry. Roy was with Pam. Roy's dad had just died, and Pam, emotionally generous as she was, didn't want to throw divorce papers to him at the funeral and take off. He understood that, he guessed, but what if? What if Roy's dad hadn't died-would Pam still have left Roy for him? Or was she bringing all of this up just because she was hurt and scared and needed her best friend?

Then, as the anger settled in and he grew more and more comfortable with the uncontrollable urge to throw the salt and pepper shakers at the window, he realized that he hated her. It was a moment, a fragment, really, of unfamiliar red-hot emotion directed solely at her. It was so surreal, feeling anything but the combination of love and frustration he'd always felt for her, but the only words he could think of to describe everything he had just heard were _how could she?_

It was so cruel, the way she brought up her feelings for him only to shoot down any thought of them ever being together. Did she not realize how head-over-heels he was over her? Did she not see the secret looks he snuck at her, the excuses to brush her arm or lean over her desk, the date on the roof that meant so much more to him than her? The entire office knew, he was sure, so it was just a question of if she was masochistic or just simply, blissfully, naïve.

"Jim? I need you to say something," she ordered, trying to interpret the millions of emotions flicking lightning-fast across her best friend's face.

He lifted his eyes to hers, eyebrows crinkling together with hurt and confusion, "Why are you bringing all of this up now?"

His voice was unusually cold and Pam was thrown, surprised at his demeanor-not used to seeing him anywhere close to angry, "I-I thought you'd want to know. So things wouldn't be weird-"

"You don't think they'll be weird now?"

The words were escaping faster than he could think through them, and he knew he should extract himself from the situation before he said something he would regret.

She fumbled for words.

"I…I didn't think you'd…"

"I'd what, Pam-care? I wouldn't care that you were going to leave your boyfriend for me if it weren't for a death in the family?"

It was coming out all wrong, even he could hear that. His reaction was making it seem like he didn't see Pam that way at all, that he was upset with her for telling him her feelings. Watching her face fall, he instantaneously regretted it.

But she'd never know, never know all those years he'd watched her with Roy and wished more than anything that he could trade places. Never know that he loved her, and was the only one who would really, truly appreciate her drawings. She wouldn't know, because it would just make this harder if they both knew that they wanted the same thing and wouldn't able to act on their impulses.

"It's not like that…I haven't been able to sleep for the past few months," she was growing stronger now, her words more forceful and clear, "I've thought about you at work, at home, the drive between work and home…it's out of control. And now I don't know what to do because Roy needs me and I want you…and-and I don't even know if you want me…"

There it was. She'd opened the door. She'd backed him into a corner, and handed him all the cards. Now, after everything she'd just said, she expected him to confess all the hidden feelings for her he'd had over the past few years. She expected him to just roll over and beg desperately for her to leave Roy. And he found himself wanting to, wanting to fall into her arms and worry about everything else later. All those little technicalities. All those useless details that were now in between him and his still-unattainable dream. His mouth opened and closed, no words escaping.

She was playing it safe, and they both knew it. She'd grabbed for the opportunity as soon as it had presented itself, the opportunity to find out if he felt anything for her from a safe perspective. Everything was out in the open, and no matter what he said next, she would have already made her choice.

"I can't give you what you're looking for," he managed to choke out, subconsciously transferring the hatred he had momentarily felt for her to himself, "and either way, you're staying with Roy."

Pam winced, bit her lip, and nodded.

"I understand. I wasn't really expecting…"

She trailed off, and neither of them were entirely sure what the end to her sentence was. Then, snapping out of the trance they had fallen into, Pam shouldered her purse, nodded again in Jim's direction, deposited a couple of bills next to her empty coffee cup and disappeared before Jim could fully wonder why he felt like such a jerk.

--

When she had gotten back to the hospital after her disaster of a lunch with Jim, she gently raked her barely-there fingernails across Roy's back as he struggled to fill out forms. His brother and sister-in-law were equally preoccupied with their four-year old twins who were currently terrorizing one of the nurses.

All Pam could think of was Jim. Which, she knew, was horrible, but he had sounded so cold, so impersonal, it almost made her wonder if he was holding something back. Something that would perhaps keep her from being in this hospital comforting Roy's grieving family.

"I'm going to go get more coffee. You want anything?" she asked softly, unable to fend away the overwhelming, unwelcome thoughts.

He shook his head without looking away from the papers, and she nodded. Already jittery from nerves and the four cups of coffee she'd already consumed, another cup was probably not necessary, but she needed something to do. She'd always hated hospitals, and recent events hadn't exactly swung her opinion in their favor. It was too quiet, for one thing. The floors were carpeted, so there were no footsteps, and everyone felt the need to whisper lest they intrude on somebody else's visit. It was like walking on eggshells-similar, actually, to the way she'd been acting around Jim. Which led her, of course, to thinking about her best friend.

She pictured him sitting at his desk back at Dunder Mifflin, probably mourning the loss of his love-sick best friend, fist to chin, dreaming up a new prank for Dwight.

She felt sick. The thought of her sitting there in that café, pouring her heart out to his stunned, vacant face made her queasy.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she mumbled to the coffee machine, ignoring the raised eyebrows and strange looks, "that was stupid."

Well, at least she wouldn't have to tip-toe around it anymore. Now she'd just have to either quit or go to work in a disguise for the rest of her life.

Simple.

**AN: it's been so long! **

**This story is getting depressing. And I really don't want to make it depressing, so I'm gonna try to pick it up. **

**Review!!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Finally another chapter. Thanks for the reviews!! I'll try to keep writing more. **

Pam was gone, and the thought of her absence left him a little dumbfounded.

At this point in their relationship, Roy kind of expected her to be there for him hours after he had received life changing news. It was common knowledge that a significant other should be there when a loved one dies, if to offer nothing more than a steady stream of support, but instead she had disappeared on a coffee run without saying goodbye, leaving him helpless in his grief. His hand shook, his pen wavering over the completed forms below it, unwilling to part with more evidence that his dad was dead.

The worst part was that he had no idea where she had disappeared _to_. He knew that she called into work for both of them, so she probably wasn't dropping by the office. She didn't have any appointments today to cancel-as far as he knew- and the possibility that she had contracted some fatal disease in the course of ten minutes was relatively low. No, instead she had chosen to leave him for something she deemed more important than his hour of need, causing his headache to grow, and his nerves to jump at an alarmingly dangerous degree.

"I'm sure she'll be back," his brother's wife assured him, gripping one of her son's wrists tightly so that he didn't take off after another nurse, "she probably went for a food run or something."

"Yeah," he murmured, immediately accepting her theory as better than his slightly more far-fetched ideas, "I'm just going to call her cell quick to let her know that we're leaving the hospital."

He fished around in his pocket for some loose change, regretting (not for the first time) that he did not have a cell phone of his own. Locating a payphone soon after he had found enough change, he abandoned the forms and made his way over to the small box of communication a couple of feet away. Feeding it some quarters, he listened for the dial tone before punching in her familiar number.

It rang five times before he angrily hung up, cursing. One of his nephews looked over at him, alarmed, and he gave an awkward smile before stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking away.

Where could she possibly be that was more important than here, with him? Where could she possibly be that wouldn't allow her to answer her phone?

--

The Pam that entered the office now was not the same Pam that had entered it a week earlier. She had shed her insecurities one by one on the drive from the hospital, and now felt relatively confident with her impulsive decision to leave Roy behind and get things back to normal with her friend. There would be no way for her to comfort Roy if she was constantly thinking of Jim.

As the elevator doors slid closed, her eyes fluttered and her mouth set into a firm line of determination. Stepping off of the elevator three floors later, she was trembling with anticipation and desperate to see him. Pam could feel him sitting at his desk that faced hers, bent over papers or tipping his chair back to see how far he could go without falling. Just thinking of how close he was got her palms sweating and her heart racing. Everything seemed different, walking into the office. The fake plant in the corner, the shelf of office supplies to the left, her desk. Taking in a deep breath of preparation, she stepped quietly up to Jim Halpert's desk and spoke.

"Hi."

He looked up from his computer screen, and almost smiled at her simple greeting.

"Hey."

"I wanted to apologize. I was dumping a lot of my personal problems on you, and I've been really stressed lately."

Jim frowned, "That's all? There wasn't any truth in what you said?"

She had expected this. Reacting with a tight, forced smile, she looked down at the floor before bringing her eyes confidently up to meet his.

"I think I've been misinterpreting our friendship. With all the stuff with Roy last night, everything I've been feeling lately just got multiplied by a thousand. Don't read into it, seriously. My mistake. Can we please, please just go back to the way things were? I don't want things to be weird or awkward."

Another shock, another lie. He could tell this time because he was looking for it. He was looking for just one indication that she had feelings for him. Just one small look or movement that would show him that he had a chance, and he found a million of them. A broad grin crept across his face and he tried unsuccessfully to hide his happiness.

"Are you sure you didn't mean anything by it?"

"Why are you smiling?"

"No reason. So you didn't mean anything by it?"

"I didn't mean anything by it."

"Ok," he replied easily, leaning back in his chair and picking up a pencil, "Just let me know when you change your mind."

"Right," she frowned, confused. Then, because she was so flustered from everything with Roy, and because Jim was looking at her so intently, and because she was currently ignoring her tired brain, she stepped forward and bent just slightly to place a short, meaningful kiss on his just barely open mouth.

It was over in seconds, just a faint, impulsive brush of her lips against his, and she didn't even give him enough time to kiss back. Instead she pulled away, murmuring something about being right back, leaving him grinning stupidly from his office chair, reaching up two disbelieving fingers to his lips, hoping desperately that whatever had just happened wasn't a dream.

It wasn't until her footsteps had completely faded from his ears and her car had already begun to pull out of the parking lot that he even registered his fellow coworkers, and the glare satisfactorily planted across Dwight Schrute's features.

"My real girlfriend has been arguing with me a lot," Jim lied, successfully straightening his own face into an expression of solemnity, "and I'm just _so_ glad that Pam agreed to be my back-up."


	7. Chapter 7

"Funny thing," Roy greeted casually as his fiancée stepped off of hospital elevator, "I lost you while I was filling out forms."

"Roy, I am so, _so _sorry-"Pam hastily replied, pulling off her scarf and wincing at the stern looks that both Roy and his family were directing in her general direction.

"Where's the coffee?"

She adopted an appropriately confused expression.

"The what?"

"You went to go get coffee. Where is it?"

"Roy…"

"I want to know where the coffee is," he ordered firmly, which made him all the more frighteningly pitiable in his grief. She took a step forward cautiously; afraid of what he would do if she moved too fast while his sister-in-law took an equally measured step toward Roy as if they were all playing flag football and she'd just declared herself on his team. Her children, who had been chattering innocently on a couple of waiting-room-chairs, fell silent in response to their mother's soundless warning.

Scanning the room quickly, her eyes darting from family member to family member, Pam felt outnumbered and queasy. She wasn't used to being on the spot.

"I didn't get coffee."

Her eyes settled on her would-be future husband and all she could think of was Jim; the way his hair fell in his face, and the way he looked at her with that faint, genuine smile that crept onto his lips after she'd kissed him. A thousand little details that made her head spin and tore her away from Roy, who was still talking to her in that firm, patronizing tone. She wished she had ended this long ago, so she wouldn't have to feel this creeping, gnawing guilt that threatened to swallow her whole. Poor Roy, losing both his father and his fiancée in a forty-eight-hour time period. Could she live with herself after this? Could she be the girl who handed back her engagement ring the day after a death in the family, regardless of what all their friends would think? It was amazing to her that something that felt so right to her could feel so wrong around Roy.

It was like that with her art, too.

"…you take off without a word and now you're acting like I'm not here. Are you going to ignore me forever? Because frankly, I'm sick of you always demanding attention. My dad is dead, Pam, _dead, _and you take off like this is an inconvenience for you-"

"It's not, Roy, I swear-there were just some things to take care of at the office, that's all."

His eyes narrowed, "you told me you called in."

"I did, but Michael left me a 911 message on my cell and I had to go in just to calm him down. That's all it was, I promise."

The lie slipped out easier than she thought it would, but it left a strange metallic taste in her mouth. It worked; his face easily morphed into an apologetic expression and he looked at the floor, shedding his earlier glare. To her surprise he closed the distance between them and enveloped her in a gentle, familiar hug.

"Why'd you lie?"

She tensed in his arms.

"About what?"

"You told me you were going to get coffee."

"I-I didn't want you to think I was leaving you for work," she stuttered out, and he nodded into her shoulder and pulled her closer. Seconds later, she felt tears seep into her shirt and felt like crying herself. The familiar, cold fingers of guilt knotted in her stomach, sharp and painful.

"No," she muttered softly, frowning, with tears glinting harshly in her eyes, "no. Roy, I can't do this."

He stepped back, "Can't do what?"

"I can't be here. I can't stand here and lie to you the day after your dad died."

"Pammy, not now," he pleaded quietly, his anger from earlier melting into fear. Somehow, he knew what she was going to say.

"I'm so sorry, Roy," she muttered, and the waiting room melted away as he slowly, painfully closed his eyes. She was vaguely aware of the hushed sounds of outrage his family was uttering, but she ignored the temptation to confront them. This was between her and Roy, "I-I didn't expect this to end like this, and I'm sorry to do this to you now. But I can't lie to you like this and pretend like everything's okay. I've been unhappy for months, and I think somehow you knew that. I think you've been unhappy, too, because we're different people from who we were in high school and we both have to accept that we will never be those people again. I love you, you have to know that. But I can't do this."

Her voice had grown stronger towards the end of her small speech, losing its tremor and adopting an air of conviction as she finally got to say the words that she so desperately needed to. For once, she wasn't thinking of Roy's reaction or how he would take the breakup. For once, she was satisfied with her decision and didn't have any doubt that it was the right one.

"Pammy…" he muttered, sounding lost.

"I know," she said firmly, tightening her hold on the purse slung over her shoulder, "I'm so, so sorry-but I have to go now. I will be there for you if you need me-all you have to do is call. But I-I have to go."

And that was it. Just like that, all those months of indecision came down to a couple of hurried words in a hospital waiting room and now she was done. Free.

Slipping off the ring on her left hand, she put it down quietly on the nurses' station counter and turned her back on the angry glare that Roy's sister was giving her and the heartbroken expression on the face she had once been so in love with. With a breath of air, she was gone.

---

His lips still tingled fantastically from her kiss.

Kevin had held up two thumbs up from his desk at the other side of the office and Phyllis had muttered a not-so-quiet 'it's about time', but it still felt like some sort of elaborate dream. Did that really just happen? Did Pam Beesley really just cross that invisible line that she drew years ago?

He fell even more deeply in love with her just thinking about how long it must have taken her to get up the courage to say that to him. Knowing that shy, cautious, amazingly practical Pam had just done a complete 180 and left him speechless, once again.

He couldn't wait for her to come back, preferably free of her big, bear-like fiancé.

**There's no excuse for the lateness-well, there is. I was studying abroad in Rome this past semester, but I'm back! Write reviews, per favore! **


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